


Divinity

by BubblegumCat



Series: You Are The Music While The Music Lasts [6]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, just them being cuties tbh, oh and drinking i guess, theres a beach, what else is there idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:31:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5764843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblegumCat/pseuds/BubblegumCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lean into my side<br/>Never felt alive<br/>Call the chants inside<br/>'We will wait for this<br/>We will wait for this'</p><p>Jean and Marco go to the beach together sometimes when stuff gets difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Divinity

We go to the beach sometimes, Jean and I. I think it started back when we'd just met and were still getting to know each other and stuff, back when he'd just gotten his license, and it just kinda continued. Became a tradition. Me and him, we go there, and wriggle our toes in the sand, and we jump around in the salty water, and we lie on the beach like we washed up from a far away land. Sometimes we swim and we laugh, and other times we sit and we talk. It's peaceful, just us.

We drive there in his old van usually, because it's easiest, and it's more reliable than my own even older car my Dad left me when he died a few years back. Most of the time we bring beer, and snacks, and we make a day of it. Because it seems silly to make the 3 and a half hour journey just to stay for an hour or so. So we stay there all day, either baking in the sun or huddled up in our big coats, depending on the season.

This time when we go it's almost autumn. There's a cool breeze drifting in and out, and a few clouds scattered lazily across the blue sky, but otherwise it's still pretty nice out. It was 9am and I'd just woken up when Jean had texted me.

** >From: Jeanbo ** >****

>>>Beach day? Could really use it.

I texted him back agreeing straight away, and so he turned up at my house 15 minutes later with food, beer, sleeping bags and pillows in the back of the van. He had looked exhausted, shaking his head as my brows knitted together in worry at the verging on purple bags under his eyes and the particular unruliness of his hair that only comes from his fingers running through it too often.

 I didn't say anything. I just got in the van, threw my stuff over my shoulder in the back and leaned across to give him a kiss on the cheek. "We'll have a good day, okay?"

 Jean had nodded, flushing slightly at the physical contact, as he put the van back in drive and we had set off.

And now we're halfway there, sitting in comfortable silence as we roll ever closer to our favourite little inlet. The roads aren't too busy, so Jean doesn't have to pile road rage on top of the things that are already bothering him. I don’t ask him about the things. I know he'll talk when he wants to, that he knows he can talk whenever he wants to.

I wish I could make whatever it is go away. He has a lot to put up with, I know that I barely know the half of it. There's so much he keeps inside. That’s just how he is, how he copes, by just internalising everything and ignoring it to make it go away. I guess it must help, or at least I really hope it does. Or maybe it's the only technique he knows how to use. That's probably more likely.

I can't help how useless it makes me feel, because how can I help if I don't know what's happening? And let's not even fucking get into just how much I want to help. If I could I'd take all of his pain away, everything bad inside him, all of those painful sharp edges. I'd keep it all inside me instead of watching him let it fester inside him.

The only thing I can do for him is this beach thing. Well, and the occasional fooling around we do. Cuddling in bed when he's had a bad day. Making out on his front porch after the yelling matches with his dad. Holding his hand under tables, kisses on his cheek to reassure him that it's okay, it'll be okay, this will pass and I'm here and it's okay. It's all I can do. Even if it kills me, because I'm terrified that to him I'm just an escape. Something soft to distract from the sharpness of the rest of his life. And I desperately want to be more than just a tool, a book to read that's left forgotten once he's finished, an umbrella sheltering him from the rain before I'm shaken and left by the door to dry out.

I lean my forehead against the cool glass of window, watching the rolling hills and trees and cars and the occasional building pass us by, my eyes flickering over everything to try and distract myself from the messiness in my head. The radio plays softly, and I can head Jean singing along even more softly now and again. I wish he'd sing more often, and I tell him so.

"Nah, singing is Mum's thing. 'Sides, gotta give everyone else a break. I can't always be the best at everything, because I mean, that's just boring. Gotta, y'know, give other dudes a fighting chance." He gives me a smirk, winking as I roll my eyes despite the smile that pulls the corners of my own mouth up to mirror his smirk.

"You're ridiculous."

"But you know you love it." I snort at that.

 "Yeah yeah. You're such a prat." I shake my head at him as he laughs, taking a hand off the steering wheel to blow me a kiss.

 "Love you too goober."

His words, along with the silly little joke kiss, they both make my heart skip a beat. I fight to keep the blush off my face, but I know I must look flustered. So I just turn my head away to look out of the window again. He doesn't mean it like that, does he?

 

~~

 

"Hey hey, wake up sleeping beauty, we're here." Jean's voice murmuring in my ear starts me out of the dream I was having. A dream filled with pale skin and pale amber brown eyes and silvery glints of piercings and oh goodness now I'll be blushing again. I can feel my skin growing warmer as I sit up, trying to be casual and stretching my arms as Jean appraises me, eyebrows raised slightly.

Thankfully he doesn't mention how red my face has gotten though, instead opting for "Not get enough sleep last night?"

I mumble something about the twins keeping me up. A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

"Well snap out of it man. It's nearly 1, c'mon let's go.We only got, what, like 4 hours of daylight left? Can't fucking waste it Marco come on come ooooon!" As he's finishing his sentence he launches himself out of the door of the van, hurtling towards the ocean waves, stripping as he runs.

I sigh, laughing shakily as I run a hand through my hair to shake away any left over thoughts remaining from the dream, before I hop out of my side of the van. I pull off my shirt and toss it on my seat before I sprint after Jean, speeding down the length of sand until I reach the water, and then I just thrash my way through the waves until I'm with him again.

We're standing up to our waists in the ocean, sand pliant and squishy between our toes, early autumn sun on our backs and glinting on the water surrounding us. Jean grins at me mischievously, and just as I'm about to ask what he's up to he splashes me, dousing me with massive wave after wave of cool salty water. Well, if I wasn’t soaked before I definitely am now.

I surface just in time to see him frantically trying to paddle away from me. He turns to look at me to gauge where I am, and I try and arrange my face into the best impression of a menacing glare that I can muster. It seems to work, because something about the look on my face must scare him. And the next thing I know he's yelling "Fuck no no no no! C'mon Marco I didn't mean it c'mon man!" and laughing and attempting to desperately doggie paddle his way further from me.

"We both know I'm the better swimmer out of the two of us Jean, and no way am I gonna let this one slide," I propel my body forward with very little effort, all those swimming lessons my mum put me through paying off as I glide through the water. Closer and closer to Jean. Until I'm close enough to grab at his ankle. 

He yelps, laughing and cursing as I pull him towards me so I can splash him again and again. He puts both his hands up in defeat in front of his face. "Okay okay, fuck, okay! I give up I surrender!"

I back off then, a cheshire cat grin stretching my face open. "Serves you right." He gives me a light shove, crossing his arms and throwing me a pretend glower before his own face breaks into a smile.

 "Fuck you and your swimming lessons."

 "Yeah well, you should'a known better than to mess with me by this point." Jean scoops up a palmful of water and throws it at me. I just raise my eyebrows. "You really wanna start this again?"

 "Maybe…" He wiggles his eyebrows up and down comically as he starts backing away, making me chuckle. "You gotta give me a head start of at least, oh, I dunno, 20 seconds?"

"You're pushing your luck. 10 seconds is as good as it gets." I tell him, creeping forward as I speak. "Maybe 15. But you better be quick." Jean yelps as he splashes his way through the water as fast as he can, as gleefully as a person who's being chased can scramble away. It makes my face light up with a smile that I can't hold back, but I guess there's no one around to see just how ridiculously wide it is, so it doesn't matter.

Once we're done chasing each other around and splashing our way through the water (and I've caught Jean more times than I can even begin to count) we collapse together in the shallows. The sun is lighting up everything in golden late afternoon light, and everything feels kinda magical. Like nothing matters except this, and Jean, and the sound of the waves lapping gently around us.

It's calm, and I can feel Jean next to me even though we aren't touching. It feels like there's somehow something connecting us, some sort of current, buzzing through me. I wonder if he feels it too.

We talk sporadically, not about anything special. Just little things that pop into our minds. He tells me how his sister pranked him the other day, spraying a ton of whipped cream in his hand when he fell asleep on the couch, then tickling his face with a feather. Needless to say, he ended up with a face full of cream and a lot of very angry words for Hitch, mainly about the state of his hair. Honestly though, with Hitch it could have been far worse. And I tell him how I'm nervous to be starting college again soon, and how I found a new band I like, and how I think he'd like them too.

"You sure? We tend to have, uh, varying musical tastes. It isn't more of that hippie folky stuff is it..?" His obvious doubt makes me chuckle.

"I don't listen to folk oh my goodness. But nah, this band isn't like the usual stuff I listen to anyway."

"Ah well rad, you'll have to show me some time then."

I make a vague humming noise in response, and then it's quiet again. I can hear seagulls cawing noisily, and children laughing. The sound makes me turn my head, and I see a family playing in the ocean - two small children splashing wildly, their dad joining in, and their mum laughing as she paddles, watching them from a safe distance so she doesn't get doused in the salty waves. I didn't even notice that they were there until now.

When we eventually get up its only because we're thirsty and the beers are in the van. So we trudge together through the at first damp and then the softer drier sand to retrieve the beer. The family are packing up now, the dad carrying the smaller of the children to the car. The mum smiles at me warmly as she puts a cooler box in the boot before she closes it, and I smile back at her.

Once we have our beer we walk a little ways down the beach until we find a spot where there are a few rock pools. I really love rock pools, there's so much life in them. These ones are pretty shallow right now though, because the tide's out, but you can still see all sorts of little sea creature dudes chilling.

 The sun is beginning to set, casting vibrant purple, orange and red light across the sky. I glance at Jean to see his pale face lit up with the last of the sunlight, hair even more golden than it usually is with the light. He's frowning slightly, legs crossed, and he's curled in on himself a bit, hands wrapped around the beer can in front of him. I nudge my shoulder against his gently and it seems to do the trick, pulling him out of whatever thoughts he's been lost in. But only for a moment. He turns to me, flashing me a quick fraction of his usual wolfish grin before he turns back to the ocean, his face straight and blank again. 

"You okay?" I ask, now leaning on him slightly, resting my arm against him. He seems to lean into the physical contact, the bare skin of his arm warm against mine.

He nods. "Y-yeah. Yeah. Just, been thinking, is all."

 I turn my face away from the sunset at this to look at him. "About?"

Jean's face is still focused on the sunset, the light reflecting off the rolling waves. Almost like he's avoiding looking at me. He doesn't reply, so my voice breaks the quiet again. "Jean?"

And then he turns to me. It's hard to read his face, it isn't blank anymore. Nope, there's definitely something there. Something, warm? His voice trembles when he speaks, and he stumbles over his words quickly. "Sh-shit alright, so look. I-I know I say it a lot. But, it's just, we've never proper, like, admitted it, and I just- I wanted-" He cuts himself off to take a deep breath. My heart is in my throat. He must be able to hear it. Although he looks nervous enough for the both of us. What is this about? He can't mean..? And then he says it.

"Marco. I love you. Like, for real. Proper, actual, f-falling in love, that kinda love. Like, I wanna fucking hold your hand, and kiss your face, and tell how you great you are all the time, and cook for you and sing for you and stare at you for as long as I want whenever I want, because I think you're the most beautiful thing in the fucking world, and fuck I'm saying fuck too much I'm sorry. But I love you, and I'm just-I'm sorry."

I'm laughing before his mouth has even closed. I try not to, I really do, but I just feel so giddy and everything feels so unreal and so beautiful right now, and I can't stop the laughter that bubbles up. Jean frowns at me sulkily. "I-is that all you're gonna do? Just fucking s-sit there and la-laugh at-"

And then I cut him off, jerking forward until my lips meet his gently. It's not like we haven't kissed before. We definitely have. Definitely. But not like this. This is different. This is special. There are no teeth, or tongues, or roughness or passion or need. Its warm, and soft, and full of feeling. I feel this kiss in my chest, spreading through me with warmth. I cup his face, again so gently, and his hands come to rest on top of mine, his thumb stroking the skin of my hand.

I pull back after a moment, blushing fiercely, though probably not as fiercely as Jean. He bites his lip as I say "I love you. I think I've loved you ever since the first beach visit. When you told me I make you feel like a better person, and when you picked out a perfectly shaped rock for me to skip over the water, and you remembered that I like dipping my French fries in vanilla milkshakes when I go to McDonald's." He snorts at that last one.

"That is so fucking cheesy."

I lean my forehead against his. "Maybe, but it's true." I tell him softly. "I love you. And I-" I pause, pulling away and pressing my lips together in a tight line. Jean looks at me quizzically. I almost don't want to tell him, but I want to be honest. "I- I was worried. That you were- that you were using me. As like, a band aid, to plug up your bleeding and your pain from the bad stuff."

He's shaking his head violently before I'm even done talking, taking my hands in his. "What Marco no no, dude, no way. You mean the absolute fucking world to me because you're you. You're so warm and real and genuine, the most genuine person I've ever met. You'd do anything for anyone and, and you stuck with me even though you thought I might be using you? That's just, that's so rare, you know?" He grins at me properly then, a real Jean grin. "You're a special one, Marco Bodt. Also you're insanely hot. That helps, not gonna lie." I flush even harder at that, rubbing my face against my shoulder, because Jean still has both of my hands and I'm not about to take them off of him anytime soon.

"Y-you too," I say, stutteringly. I'm not used to this holy wow. He laughs at my obvious loss of sense, the sound musical and pretty, eyes crinkling around the sides. I don't know what to say, so I lean forwards again to kiss one corner of his mouth, then the other, and then the middle. His hand comes to rest on my jaw. Our knees touch, our crossed legs opposite each other as we deepen the kiss ever so slightly, but we still keep that warmth, that same feeling of, love. I guess that's what it is.

How has this happened? We're so opposite, him so seemingly unafraid of anything and loud and argumentative, and me so soft and nice and quiet, and boring. How did he choose me? It bewilders me, terrifies me, and makes me happier than I've ever been, all at once. I push the questions away for now, because what does it matter? What matters is that he did choose me. Not Mikasa. Not even Armin, beautiful sweet gorgeous Armin. Me. And he thinks I'm hot. That sends a twinge deep down in my lower stomach, and I unintentionally deepen the kiss even more, my tongue sliding against his lip without me guiding it myself. He makes a noise from the back of his throat that, for lack of a better word, I can only call a moan. Holy fuck.

Jean pulls back then, and I admire his swollen lips and the slight unevenness of his breath. I like that I can get to him like that. I like it a lot. Always have if I'm honest. I grin at him, and he mirrors my expression, so we're both sitting here on the sand in the evening light grinning at each other like idiots. And I haven't been happier than I am now in a long time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by the song Divinity by Porter Robinson, specifically this remix 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1nGULWNPCs
> 
> thank you so so much for reading ^_^


End file.
